


Necessity

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam takes drastic measures to save O'Neill and Teal'c from Pyrus and the naquadah mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessity

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the fanzine Revelation, Volume Two, May 2004.

NECESSITY

Garrick sat unobtrusively at his writing table, listening intently—as always—to the conversation between his Lord and the Princess Shyla. Though conversation was perhaps a misnomer, he thought slyly, as Shyla was arguing with her father regarding the alien male with whom she was currently infatuated. And arguing in vain, it would seem given her impassioned pleas. The Princess was proving to be most inconvenient, her attempts to gain increased influence over her father were becoming more of a threat now instead of an annoyance. He'd worked hard to achieve his position and was finally able to do some good for his people. He couldn't allow himself to be deterred by the whims of a petulant princess. 

"He is the one, I know he is!"

"Enough of your foolishness!" Pyrus' voice was only slightly weak, Garrick noted, after an extended 'sleep' in the sarcophagus. This would be the time to speak with him, while he was at his strongest. Pyrus continued talking. "There have been any number of suitable suitors from your own people. Men from noble families who are better suited for life as your consort than this invader."

"He is the one I desire. It is my right to choose my consort."

"The only rights you have are the ones I give to you, daughter," Pyrus growled. "You would do well to remember that I am still King."

Garrick watched covertly, wondering if Pyrus had pushed his headstrong daughter too far, but to her credit, she swallowed whatever retort she had been about to make and bowed her head. "Yes, Father." Her reply was meek, but even from where he sat Garrick could see the anger in her eyes when she turned and left the room. 

The sigh Pyrus gave was heavy and he sat down wearily at his desk. Sensing an opportunity, Garrick gathered up some papers and walked over to where Pyrus sat. 

"The most recent report on Naquadah production, my Lord."

Pyrus barely glanced at the report, before setting it down on the desk.

"If I may be so bold, my Lord?" Garrick said cautiously and waited. 

"You are my most trusted minister, Garrick." Pyrus looked at him, "You may speak your mind."

"Your daughter seems dangerously obsessed with this man."

"She has always been headstrong, Garrick."

"That is true, your grace. But I think we both know that a potential alliance with this alien must be discouraged." 

"You heard my daughter, she will not be easily swayed."

"As you reminded her, you are still the King." Garrick paused, "And we must also consider the possibility of retaliation from their Lord if we keep them here." Pyrus grunted and Garrick continued. "The woman is most beautiful, is she not?"

"Do you wish her for your own, Garrick?"

"Oh no, my Lord, I saw how you favored her."

A smile creased Pyrus' face. "Such lovely hair...."

Garrick smiled, this might be easier than he expected. "Perhaps we can use the woman to our advantage, my Lord."

"Speak plainly, Garrick."

"I believe that there is a way for you to keep the woman, rid yourself of the others and not incur the wrath of their god." 

"Tell me," Pyrus commanded, the glint in his eyes telling Garrick that the old man was definitely interested.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, easy!" Sam grumbled, trying to keep up with the guard who was leading her like a dog on a leash. Her manacled hands were outstretched in front of her, the faux Jaffa tugging on a chain he'd fastened to the manacles. Sam tried to look impassive, working hard to keep her nervousness and fear from showing. They hadn't seen Daniel for days and then these Jaffa had just shown up and taken her out of the mine. Both the Colonel and Teal'c had protested, the Colonel earning a sharp backhand for his efforts. She'd been manacled, marched out of the mine and then led to the palace by two unsmiling Jaffa.

After being tugged up several flights of stairs, she was led into the large throne room where they had been taken right after they'd been captured. The guard removed the chain from her manacles and then roughly pushed her to her knees. Biting back a cry, she managed to just keep herself upright. Getting her balance, she brushed her grimy hair out of eyes with her bound hands and then surveyed the room's occupants. She recognized Pyrus, who sat unsmiling on his throne and the Princess, who stood some distance away from her father, also unsmiling. Sam wondered uneasily where Daniel was when she didn't see him in the room. The only other person in the room, besides the guards, was the man who stood next to Pyrus' throne, someone she didn't recognize, though given his position next to Pyrus and his opulent robes, was someone of importance. However, it was still Shyla who spoke. 

"My father has a proposition for you." 

Sam tensed, her anxiety increasing with Shyla's terse words. Then the other man spoke.

"I am Garrick, first minister to the God Slayer." He gave a small bow then. "We are a peaceable people and have no wish to receive the notice of outside worlds. The God Slayer is therefore willing to negotiate the terms for the release of your companions."

"I'm not the one you should be negotiating with," Sam interjected, "Colonel O'Neill—"

"Silence!" Pyrus thundered. "This concerns only you."

Sam was bewildered, what could possibly only concern her? She watched the interplay between the three people above her on the dais with mounting interest. Shyla's mouth had tightened even more, a look of intense displeasure on her face. Pyrus ignored his daughter and gestured towards the other man, who smiled ingratiatingly. 

"The God Slayer is prepared to release your three companions, to return safely to your home world, on the condition that you remain."

Sam was stunned, out of everything she had imagined Garrick would say, this was totally unexpected. Her surprise must've shown on her face because Garrick hurriedly added. "You do not need to give your answer immediately."

Garrick nodded to the guards and Sam was jerked to her feet. "What will happen if I refuse?" she asked, straining against the manacles as she was pulled from the room.

"Then you and your companions will work out the rest of your natural lives in the mine." Garrick smiled most unpleasantly then. "Which unfortunately for you, will not be very long at all...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam docilely followed the guards back to the mine. The squalor of her surroundings and stench emanating from the area even more pervasive than previously. That they'd managed to survive the primitive living conditions and backbreaking labor so far was a testament to their generally healthy condition. A healthy condition that was rapidly deteriorating in both her and the Colonel. Teal'c seemed least affected but Sam couldn't help but wonder if the harsh conditions would begin to affect him as well.

The eyes of the curious workers standing about the mine entrance flickered on her briefly before sliding away. The hopelessness and despair of the inhabitants was even more oppressive after being out in the sunlight and open air. The light faded the further she got into the mine, bringing her mood down even further. Could she sentence the Colonel and Teal'c—and herself—to a slow death in the mines when she could do something about it? Of course, Daniel might yet intervene, but it had been so long since they'd had any contact with him. Who knew what continued exposure to the sarcophagus had done to him?

The passageway narrowed and Sam realized belatedly that she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings. The guard shoved her around a corner and she stumbled into a cul-de-sac where Teal'c and the Colonel were working. O'Neill let his pickaxe drop and Sam gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. 

One of the guards prodded her and she turned, holding out her wrists while he unfastened the manacles. She rubbed her wrists, relieved to have the restraints removed, her relief was short-lived though when the guard spoke loudly. "When you have decided, Tomas will be at the main junction." 

The two pseudo-Jaffa left and when Sam turned back to her companions the Colonel raised an eyebrow. "When you've decided what?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shyla let the sweet tremors overtake her, pleased with her lover's skill and stamina. She had indeed chosen well. When he stiffened and groaned above her, she held him tenderly, stroking his dark hair. She couldn't lose him—or this, she decided fiercely. There had to be a way she could manipulate her father to her advantage in this situation. Garrick was proving to be troublesome, she would need to act very carefully. Garrick had accumulated much power and wealth in the years he had been first minister to her father and it now seemed he would do whatever he could to keep that power. It was time he found out who was going to have the real power.

"What is it, my love?" 

She opened her eyes to find Daniel's worried blue eyes gazing down at her. 

"You're not worried that Sam will agree to your father's proposition, are you?"

Forcing a smile back to her face she answered as honestly as she could. "She would have great influence as my father's consort. She would be foolish to refuse." Shyla reached up and caressed Daniel's cheek "And if she agrees to stay, I will lose you."

Daniel cupped her hand to his face, kissing her palm. "You will never lose me. Jack will never let Sam stay with your father. And besides, even if I do have to leave temporarily to appease Jack and your father, I will always return to you."

Shyla smiled and drew him back down to her, pleased with his devotion. He kissed her ardently, as she knew he would, his hands skillfully caressing her still trembling flesh. She would have Daniel as her mate. Her father and Garrick would do well to remember she was the daughter of the God Slayer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam wiped her face with the hem of her filthy T-shirt, not really caring that she only smeared the dirt around. Sighing, she leaned over—ignoring the ache in her back—and picked up another rock, carrying it to the ore cart. The sounds of the Colonel and Teal'c's pick-axes rang in the cul-de-sac as they worked, mingling with the distant sounds of the other workers. Dumping the rock in the cart, she paused and covertly studied the Colonel. It had been almost two days since she'd been taken to Pyrus and two days since the Colonel had emphatically told her 'no way in hell'.

_"When you've decided what?"_

_His voice had been conversational, but she knew it was an order. Cutting straight to the point she answered. "Pyrus will let you, Teal'c and Daniel return to Earth if I stay here."_

_"And you told him no?"_

_"Actually, sir, I haven't decided."_

_"You mean I haven't decided."_

_"Colonel—"_

_"Captain Carter, there is no discussion. There is no way in hell that I will leave you—or anyone else—here. Is that understood?"_

She had nodded and that had been the end of the discussion. 

"Captain Carter?"

She almost jumped at the sound of Teal'c's voice. 

"We must continue to work," he reminded her.

She nodded tiredly, he was right. Just standing and doing nothing would result in discipline if she were caught.

"You are worried about Daniel Jackson?"

She glanced quickly at the Colonel, who continued to work, unaware of their conversation. "I'm worried about all of us, Teal'c."

"O'Neill is correct in refusing to let you trade your freedom for ours."

"I'm not so sure about that." She picked up another lump of rock. "You'd be free, which would give you the advantage—especially since you'd be able to return to the SGC and get reinforcements. You'd be able to return for me."

"Perhaps."

"But the Colonel won't even listen!"

"I do not believe O'Neill would ever agree to returning to Earth without you—or Daniel Jackson."

Sam frowned, her eyes drawn once more to O'Neill. He had paused, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a grubby rag before once more raising his pickaxe. He winced and she could tell her was favoring his bad knee, his movements cautious and measured. She didn't say anything more to Teal'c, merely nodded and went back to work. They couldn't go on like this....

She heard the booted footsteps before she saw them. It was too early for the next round of the Jaffa that patrolled the mine, so that meant it could only be the inspector—Hashim.  
She glanced quickly at the pitiful collection of rocks in the cart she'd been filling. When they'd first started in the mines, the cart would have been full by now. Today it was less than half full and Hashim would not be happy. O'Neill and Teal'c had heard them as well and Sam saw them exchange a look.

Three guards appeared first, followed by Hashim and then to Sam's surprise, Garrick rounded the corner. The Colonel and Teal'c had stopped working and Sam stood back from the cart.

Hashim frowned when he looked in the cart, his lips curling in a sneer. "What is this? We will not meet the quota with this meager output!"

Sam didn't say anything, merely kept her eyes lowered. She looked up though, when a movement and rattle of chains caught her attention. Oh no, please sir...don't, she prayed fervently.

"Well, if you gave us some decent food—"

"Silence!" Hashim snarled. And then something happened that shouldn't have surprised her, but did. If she hadn't looked towards Garrick when she did, she would have missed the small nod he gave. The guard closest to O'Neill smiled and then rammed the butt-end of his staff weapon into the Colonel's unsuspecting abdomen. Sam couldn't suppress her cry when O'Neill groaned and fell to his hands and knees, gagging. Teal'c made a move, but one of the other guards quickly pointed his staff weapon at him.

The Jaffa standing over O'Neill kicked him viciously in the side several times before raising his staff weapon again.

"No!" Sam shouted. "Stop! Don't hurt him!" She moved toward the fallen man, only to be held back by the remaining guard.

Garrick's smile was triumphant when he looked at her. "You will agree to stay here in exchange for their freedom?"

"Yes!" She didn't even hesitate, there was no way she'd let them kill him...even if it meant sacrificing herself.

"No, Captain Carter—" Teal'c was quickly silenced by the sound of the staff weapon being triggered.

"Captain," O'Neill groaned, pain and anger distorting his features as he looked up at her from the ground. "I'm giving you a direct order," he managed to gasp before the guard kicked him again, setting him into another fit of retching before he collapsed in the dirt.

Sam turned to Garrick then. "I said I'd come with you, stop hurting him!"

Garrick nodded slowly and raised his hand to guard, who backed down. Hashim and Garrick turned and Sam moved too when the guard prodded her. She stopped though, before rounding the corner. "Tell the Colonel it was the only way, Teal'c."

Teal'c nodded, already kneeling by the unmoving man, his eyes more somber than usual.

"And tell him he better come back for me," she called back as the guard forced her into the corridor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack stood stiffly by the DHD, only grim determination to not show any weakness kept him upright. Teal'c stood unobtrusively by his side, the man's alert status telling Jack he hadn't fooled Teal'c at all. That last beating had been bad, he knew he had a bruised kidney, maybe worse. And it hurt every time he breathed. 

The sun broke over the distant pyramid and Jack fumbled for his sunglasses, their gear having been returned in anticipation of their departure. His mouth tightened...their departure without Carter. God, he must've passed out because there was no way in hell he would have let her go with those goons. And he certainly didn't buy her reasoning that it had been the only way. He hated feeling helpless and he hated to leave her here, but there was no way he and Teal'c would be able to retrieve her now. The only thing she had gotten right was that he damn well would return for her—with a whole regiment if necessary.

"O'Neill."

The Jaffa guarding them had stiffened to attention and Jack continued to frown, as Daniel appeared, walking almost casually up the slight incline to the Stargate, Shyla hanging off his arm. Jack watched in mounting disbelief and concern as Daniel drew closer. He was still dressed in the extravagant robes they'd seen him in the one time he'd come to the mines. His hair was wildly mussed and his glasses were no where to be seen. He was talking and gesturing expansively, his laugh a loud, sharp staccato that broke the still morning air. Something was definitely wrong with their archaeologist. Maybe Sam had been right about that sarcophagus business.

Daniel and Shyla finally reached them, the inane grin on Daniel's face and smug look on Shyla's causing Jack to grind his teeth in frustration. Taking the offensive he snapped, "Daniel, where's Carter?"

Almost immediately Daniel's smile faded and his eyes grew distant. Shyla released his arm and stood before Jack with her haughty look firmly in place. "As you well know, Captain Carter is remaining here at the request of my father. In return, he is graciously allowing you to return to your world."

"Gracious my ass—"

"Jack, Jack, Jack!" Daniel interrupted, placing a hand in the middle of his chest. "This isn't the time or place to discuss this."

"Daniel Jackson is correct, O'Neill. It will be better if we return to Earth."

Teal'c was right, they were outgunned and outnumbered. Not to mention he felt like crap and Daniel wouldn't be of any use, as infatuated as he was with the princess. Jack reluctantly ceded and gave Daniel and Shyla a curt nod.

Daniel grinned triumphantly and there was definite gloating coming from Shyla when she clapped her hands. Two Jaffa then approached them and handed over their weapons. Quickly checking his, Jack immediately saw the clip had been removed.

"You will understand we had to remove the projectiles," Shyla smirked.

"Yeah, right—whatever." Summoning the strength to pick up his backpack, Jack growled, “Teal'c, dial us the hell out of here."

Teal'c nodded, and with a glare directed Daniel and Shyla, turned to the DHD. 

"We will be back you know," Jack snapped at Shyla.

Instead of looking upset, she almost looked triumphant. "It will be best if you never return. The God Slayer may not be as generous with your lives a second time." 

Her casual threat filled Jack with even more unease, her apparent lack of concern at losing Daniel permanently at odds with her previous behavior. Jack heard the gate whoosh to life behind him and he ignored the gnawing in his gut that told him leaving without Carter was an incredibly bad idea. 

"Come on Daniel. Time to leave."

"Until you return, my love," Shyla murmured, pulling Daniel into a passionate embrace.

Jack refrained from telling her that was no way in hell he'd ever let Daniel return, when the two broke apart.

"Don't ever forget how much I love you," Daniel told her.

"Oh for crying out loud!" Jack snorted. "Daniel, through the gate—now!" His disgust and impatience were growing by the minute. With one last longing look directed at Shyla, Daniel finally obeyed. Jack glared at Shyla, who merely gave him an icy smile before he turned, following Daniel through the gate, Teal'c right behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam restlessly paced the confines of her small room, her flowing gown rustling around her bare legs. Seven steps from the window to the door, five steps to the bed. She felt horribly vulnerable and exposed, dressed in nothing more than an incredibly beautiful peignoir. She amended that thought, beautiful if she was waiting for something other than what was going to happen. The waiting was making her more and more tense by the minute. 

After being brought to the pyramid the previous evening, she had been locked in this room, only leaving it once. After being left to wonder what would happen to her, she'd been escorted under guard to another room where a bath awaited her. She'd been too grateful at the thought of actually getting clean to worry about having servants attend to her—or accepting comfort from the enemy, so to speak. She also knew she'd never affect an escape past the two guards stationed outside the door. The bath had been wonderful, her new attire less so. When she'd requested her BDU's be returned, the servant's had been polite but absolutely refused, giving her instead the silky, white ankle length chemise and flowing robe to wear. And then she'd been returned to her room.

Every time she heard a key in the door, she expected to be taken to Pyrus. The first time, she'd been given real food to eat, with the door opening for the third time an hour or so later when her tray was removed. The servants were never alone, always accompanied by two guards. Evidently she wasn't to be trusted.

After her tray was removed, she'd waited anxiously for whatever was going to happen next. However, exhaustion and a full stomach soon found her fighting sleep and she'd finally been forced to lie down on the narrow cot. She hadn't woken until the bright morning sun broke through the window. She'd found the chamber pot and sometime while she'd been sleeping, a large bowl and pitcher of water had been brought to the room. She'd washed and now she waited....

Seven steps forward, seven steps back. It had to be almost mid-day, she figured, when she heard the door being unlocked and wondered if it would be a servant with lunch. Two guards appeared in the door, but instead of the usual servant, this time Garrick entered the room. His smile was pleasant, but his eyes rudely raked over her body and she felt horribly exposed and vulnerable.

"Captain Carter, you cleaned up quite nicely." He reached out and fingered a lock of her hair. She flinched and he laughed, letting his hand drop back to his side. "I thought perhaps you and I should have a discussion regarding your position here."

Sam nodded, still weary, but feeling slightly less threatened—and curious.

"Very well," Garrick continued smoothly, "please, sit down."

Sam did as he asked, perching uneasily on the edge of her cot. Garrick started to slowly pace, hands behind his back.

"My lord Pyrus is an old, frail man."

Sam couldn't help but snort and Garrick shot her a frown.

"Oh, I will admit on first appearance he looks quite imposing. But his sessions in the sarcophagus are becoming more and more frequent and increasingly less effective. However," he smiled slyly at her, "he is a still a man and he has always been partial to young women with fair hair."

"Okay, so he's a horny old man who likes blondes young enough to be his daughter. Why tell me this?"

"Because if you're smart, you'll do as I say and we'll both benefit."

"So far I haven't seen any benefit."

"Oh, be assured Captain Carter, your companions left for your world by way of the Stargate at dawn. Pyrus has fulfilled his part of the bargain. What I have to tell you has nothing to do with that arrangement." Garrick paused before her, his gaze intent. "Pyrus has been grooming his daughter to eventually take his place, a situation to which I had resigned myself to accepting. She is really just a child, granted a strong-willed one, but still someone that I would be able to control. That is until she was rescued by the man she believed to be her destiny—your Doctor Jackson." Garrick shook his head in apparent disdain. "His influence was beginning to undermine everything I have accomplished here, a situation which was rapidly becoming intolerable. I had to find a way to remove her from his influence."

"So, you persuaded Pyrus to trade my friends for me so you could get rid of Daniel?"

"A brilliant plan," he gloated.

"You bastard!" Sam stood and slapped him, fear and frustration getting the better of her. Garrick grabbed her wrist and he was much stronger than she expected, forcing her up against the wall. A small, but extremely wicked looking, knife was held to her throat. 

"Make no mistake, Captain Carter, that you and your friends are alive only by my intervention. If I have to, I can succeed without you."

The knife was cold and sharp against her skin. "What do you want me to do?" she whispered. Dying before she was rescued wasn't part of her plan. 

"Keep the old fool happy," Garrick sneered, trailing the knife down her throat in a sadistic caress. "I'm sure a woman as beautiful as you will have no problem with that."

Sam swallowed the retort she wanted to make. She had to stay alive if she ever wanted to see home again. And it appeared Garrick was the one calling the shots. She slowly nodded and he released her, the knife disappearing into his robes. 

"I'm glad you understand." His smile was once more genial and pleasant. "My lord has arisen from the sarcophagus. He presently has matters of state to attend to, however he has requested your presence for the evening."

Sam nodded again, her insides knotting at the implication.

"Good," Garrick nodded, apparently satisfied. He walked to the door, then paused and looked back at her. "Do as you're told and you will find me a powerful ally. Disappoint me at all and you will live to regret it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam had just finished picking at the delectable meal that had been brought to her, unable to eat, her appetite destroyed by the nerves that had been steadily building since Garrick had left, when her door opened. As expected, two stern guards stood there. She stood, nervously smoothing down her gown. 

"You will come with us."

Sam took a deep breath and followed them out of the room. The stone floor was cold on her bare feet and she developed a new appreciation for the thin rug that had been on the floor in her room. She vainly tried to keep track of where she was being taken, but soon gave up, the twists, turns and innumerable stairs only telling her they were going higher and higher within the pyramid. After climbing yet another ornate staircase, they ended up on a large landing, where two more guards stood outside a large, gilt door. Their faces were impassive as one of the guards escorting her rapped loudly on the door. Sam didn't hear anything, but the guard opened the door and stood aside.

Oh god, her hands were sweaty and all she wanted to do was run. Only the thought that the Colonel and the rest of her team were back on Earth and would return and rescue her gave her the strength to walk through the door. The door closed with an ominous thud and Sam found herself in a large room. She looked around cautiously. A fire burned in a large fireplace that covered one whole wall. Torches flickered in sconces along the walls provided additional light. 

"Come here, girl."

The voice came from the raised area opposite the fireplace. Sam crossed the room, acutely aware of the transparency of her gown against the light of the flames. Slowly walking up the low steps, Sam finally saw Pyrus. He sat, half reclining, on a low divan on the far wall. The floor of the dais was littered with a variety of pillows of all shapes and sizes. A decanter filled with a rich, red liquid sat on a low table next to the divan. There was one glass on the table, another in Pyrus' thick hand.

"Come closer, girl."

Sam did as requested, shuffling through the pillows. When she reached the divan she stood there, feeling humiliation fill her as Pyrus leisurely studied her, his hot gaze lingering on her legs, her hips, her breasts....

"Sit down," he commanded, interrupting her train of thought. She sank down onto a large pillow in front of the divan.

"Do you have a name?"

"Samantha," she managed to murmur, steeling herself not to flinch when he reached out and stroked her hair.

"Such pretty hair," he said softly, his hand trailing down her throat and across her breasts. She couldn't stop the shiver of revulsion his touch engendered, but either he didn't notice or he didn't care. 

"Come and sit next to me, Samantha."

She closed her eyes and had to take a deep breath before she could get her body to obey his gruff command. Sitting next to him, she tried to ignore the stale smell of sweat and age that lingered on him. He shifted closer, one large hand resting on her knee, his fingers roughly kneading through the soft material of her gown. His breath was hot and offensive against her neck, his breathing labored. 

Sam closed her eyes when his hand moved up her thigh. She could do this, she kept telling herself. Just remember they're alive...they're alive.... Pyrus' lips pressed against hers, his mouth was hot and wet, his hand squeezing the soft flesh of her thigh. She choked back a sob when he groaned, his fingers digging into her thigh. And then his whole body jerked against her, his groan changing to a deep rattle. Sam suddenly found herself free of Pyrus when he collapsed onto the divan. 

Jumping to her feet, she watched horrified, as he seemed to convulse right before her eyes, his eyes rolling back in his head and gasping for breath. When the convulsion seemed to end and he lay unmoving on the divan, she broke free from the shock that had her immobilized. Racing to the door she tugged futilely on the handle. It was locked, so she started beating on the door with her fists. 

"Help me! Help me! Something's wrong with Pyrus!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Traitorous bitch!" Shyla slapped the blonde woman again, unmindful of the stinging in her hand. "You killed him!" she spat at the woman kneeling in front of her.

"No, I didn't." The blonde glared up at her, her face pale except for the red blotch on her cheek.

Shyla slapped her again. The woman's head snapped back but she still looked defiant. 

"He had some kind of convulsion and he died. Did you see any signs of violence on his body?"

"There are other ways. Poison...."

"And how would I get poison? I've been locked in my room ever since I got here!"

"Someone could have brought it to you." Shyla turned to her father's first prime. "Who visited this woman today?"

"The kitchen staff, your Highness, and Garrick."

Shyla's mouth tightened. Garrick and this woman had to be working together. "Tie her up and then bring Garrick to me." She watched dispassionately as one of the guards roughly grabbed the woman's hands, binding them behind her back. If it hadn't been for Garrick's suggestion and this woman's agreement to his outrageous plan, Daniel would still be here...where he belonged...at her side. And her father would still be alive. But in spite of the fact that her father lay dead, she slowly smiled. She was queen now...and the two who had done this to her father would suffer. 

The door of the chamber flew open and Shyla turned, her heart filling with hatred for the man who was being hustled unceremoniously into the room. Garrick saw her almost immediately and started babbling.

"Your Highness! I must protest this barbaric treatment! When your father hears how you have treated his most trusted advisor—" 

She swiftly approached him and the sound of her hand slapping his cheek filled the room and seemed to stun Garrick into speechlessness. 

"Kneel before your Queen!" she commanded in her most arrogant voice. Garrick stood before her, unmoving. She nodded to the guards, who forced Garrick roughly down onto his knees beside Captain Carter. 

Garrick glared up at her, rubbing at his shoulder and straightening his robes. "Have your fun now, your Highness. Your father—"

"My father is dead!" She gestured toward the kneeling woman. "Thanks to you and your accomplice."

Garrick looked genuinely shocked. "Dead? When? How?" he gasped.

"Do not play the innocent with me. My father lies dead at the hands of this woman," she spat, "with poison provided by you. It was your idea to tempt my father with this woman. Your idea to deny me the man who should rightfully be mine." She had started pacing, warming to her thoughts of some great conspiracy to deprive of Daniel and her position as future Queen. "And it has always been your desire to prevent me from assuming my rightful position as Queen."

"No, your highness, I swear on my life, I would never harm the King."

She swung around on him. "It may well mean your life, Garrick." She spoke to the head guard then. "Lock them both in the dungeon until I have decided on their punishment."

The woman said nothing as she was dragged from the room, but Garrick was not so quiet. "Your highness, please, I beg of you. Please listen, I didn't kill your father...." She could hear him pleading even out into the corridor. "...you'll need my help!"

She didn't need anyone's help. Turning back to the remaining Jaffa, she briskly ordered, "Have the Priests come and prepare the King's body."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack cautiously lowered himself into the briefing room chair, the soft leather cradling his still tender flank and ribs. What a hell of a mess. The last few days had been a blur of pain, endless tests and then Daniel's ignominious descent into withdrawal. Fraiser still looked pissed at Daniel, even though she was the epitome of professionalism in her treatment of him. And one day he'd have to ferret out from Teal'c the details of what exactly happened when he'd cornered Daniel in that storeroom. Suffice it to say, a thoroughly chastened and subdued Daniel now sat across from him.

"God, Jack...it's all my fault." 

Jack didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look any more miserable until Daniel dropped his head down into his hands and moaned softly.

"And Sam...what I have I done to Sam?"

Jack's jaw clenched until he was sure his teeth were going to crack. Sam...he shuddered and took a deep breath, forcing himself to lock away all those feelings leaving her behind threatened to release. He couldn't think about what was happening to Sam, because if he did, he'd lose his temper—and his focus. And right now he needed to convince Hammond to let them return to P3R-636 and retrieve Sam—hopefully without further incident. Or maybe with it, at this point in time he really didn't care. He wanted Carter back, no matter what it took.

"We shall retrieve Captain Carter, O'Neill."

Teal'c spoke with more optimism than Jack felt. Daniel looked like he was going to start crying again. And all Jack wanted was to get this mission authorized. Hammond finally appeared from out of his office, his expression grim.

He tossed down the folder he carried. "I'm sorry, son. But the Joint Chiefs have refused to authorize a full-scale rescue mission for Captain Carter."

"Sir--"

"General, we have to go back for her!" Daniel shot to his feet, his impassioned plea drowning out Jack's protest.

Hammond held up his hand. "Stand down, Doctor Jackson. I said the Joint Chiefs have refused, that doesn't mean that I have refused." Daniel took his seat and then Hammond turned to Jack.

"Colonel, even though I cannot authorize a full-scale mission, I can authorize SG-3 to accompany you and Teal'c to P3R-636 to retrieve Captain Carter."

Jack felt hope flare in his heart and glancing quickly around the table, noted the same hope on the face of his teammates. There was just one thing. "What about Daniel, sir?" 

"In light of Doctor Jackson's recent behavior—"

"General, sir," Daniel interrupted. "I know my behavior was reprehensible and it's clearly my fault Sam is still on P3R-636. You've already said you can't send in a large assault team, so let me go to help with a diplomatic approach."

"Colonel?"

Jack let his gaze flicker over Daniel, the pleading look in the younger man's eyes sincere. He looked back at Hammond, his expression steady. "I think that Daniel can help us, sir. I'd like to have him along on the mission."

Hammond continued to look skeptical but nodded in agreement. Daniel's look of hope mixed with relief was palpable and Jack really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, their return to P3R-636 was almost anti-climactic. Jack and Teal'c had gone through the gate first, followed rapidly by SG-3 and Daniel. Expecting resistance, Jack was almost disappointed when the guards stationed at the Stargate grudgingly welcomed them. Apparently the Princess had been expecting them...or at least Daniel. Leaving the marines to keep the Gate secure, O'Neill and Teal'c had followed along behind Daniel as they were escorted to the Pyramid. 

"I've got the feeling that we were expected, Teal'c," Jack murmured.

"I believe you to be correct, O'Neill. The Jaffa guarding the Stargate were not surprised to see us."

Jack nodded, slipping his sunglasses off as they walked. The path from the Stargate to the Pyramid was still nothing more a dusty trail, skirting the mines where they had endured backbreaking labor. The empty eyes of the dirty workers gathered outside the entrance of the mine listlessly followed their progress. He heard a shout and his attention was drawn briefly by some kind of scuffle at the mine entrance, but the guards quickly subdued the offenders. Jack put his sunglasses back on and walked on past, that was a sight he could do without.

They were once again escorted to the throne room, but this time instead of finding Pyrus sitting in the large throne on the dais, Shyla sat there. Her glacial stare faded as soon as she saw Daniel and with a very un-royal cry, she launched out of her chair and down the steps, flinging herself into Daniel's arms. 

"I knew you would return," she murmured between kisses. 

Daniel's arms hung by his side and he gave Jack a helpless look. Jack just shrugged his shoulders and wondered how long it would be before the Princess got the message.

"What is the matter, my love?" she finally stepped back from him, consternation marring her lovely features. 

Not long, apparently.

"Shyla." Daniel spoke and Jack motioned to Teal'c, the two of them walking off a short distance. Jack kept his back turned, but still listened intently to their conversation.

"What is it? What has happened?"

"I'm here to help you, to help your people."

"You're wearing your glass circles again!" she exclaimed, apparently ignoring what Daniel had said. "It is not too late..."

Jack turned around then; Shyla looked frantic, tugging on Daniel's arm.

"Tell her, Daniel," he snapped. 

"We know, Shyla."

"Know what?"

"We know that use of the sarcophagus is addictive and that it changes a person...."

"No, you're wrong. I haven't been changed. Come with me, you'll see." She grabbed Daniel by both his hands, pulling.

"No, Shyla." He pulled his hands free and grabbed her by her shoulders. "It is addictive. It changed me, made me someone that I wasn't, someone who would ignore their friends and lust for power." 

Shyla looked increasingly horrified and started struggling.

"But I'm free of that addiction and you can be, too."

"No, you do not understand," she broke free. Jack watched with grim fascination as she pulled herself together. "My father, Pyrus, the God Slayer, is dead. As queen of this land, it is up to me to lead our people on the path my father has chosen for them." She turned and walked slowly away from them and back up the steps to the throne. She gracefully sat down, her skirt sweeping around her. 

"There is nothing you or your people can offer us. You will leave now." She nodded at the waiting guards, who stepped forward.

Jack sensed movement behind him and knew that Teal'c was readying himself for whatever happened next. Stepping forward, Jack spoke directly to Shyla. "We're not leaving without Captain Carter."

A look of pure venom raced across her face before she once more composed her features into an indifferent mask. She waved a hand disdainfully, as if batting away a pesky mosquito. "Captain Carter is dead."

"What?" Stunned, Jack took several steps towards the dais, only to be stopped by two of the guards. 

Daniel hadn't said a word, but all the color had drained out of his face and he looked worse than he had even in the throes of his withdrawal. Teal'c, as usual, remained impassive but Jack saw the nearly imperceptible tightening of his jaw and fierce anger in his eyes. Without once looking away from the dais—and ignoring the guards—Jack casually shifted his weapon into ready position. 

"When?" he snapped when the princess didn't elaborate.

"Soon after you left."

"But how?" Daniel broke in. "Your father wanted her to stay here."

"Captain Carter did not..." she paused, looking off into space, a slight frown on her face, before continuing. "...please my father, so he ordered her returned to the mines."

Jack's hands gripped the MP-5 even tighter at the woman's casually spoken words and he knew if he looked down, his knuckles would be white. But he didn't. He kept his iron gaze focused on the princess.

"Several days later I was informed that she had been killed in a cave-in." She finally looked directly at them. "Tragic, but a common enough occurrence with those who toil in the mines."

Jack had heard enough. Carter was dead.... "Teal'c, Daniel, let's get out of here."

"But, Jack! We can't leave, we came to help."

"We came to retrieve Captain Carter. But we can't—she's dead."

"We can at least get her body." Daniel looked imploringly at Shyla.

"The cave-in was extensive." She shrugged, "It would be impossible to dig out the body of one worker."

Daniel turned back to him, sorrow and worry etched into his features. "We can still help them, Jack."

"We can't do anything for them, Daniel." Jack shot a cold look toward Shyla. "If the princess decides she wants our help, one of the diplomatic teams can handle the negotiations."

"But, Jack—"

"Now, Daniel! I am not going to argue with you over this. If you recall, this entire mess is a result of your inability to follow orders." It was a low blow and Jack ignored the small twinge of guilt he felt when Daniel blanched again, but the need to lash out at someone was too strong. The two men stared at each other, Jack's eyes growing cold as he locked down the grief that threatened to overwhelm him.

Teal'c finally spoke. "Colonel O'Neill is correct. Your judgement has not always been the wisest concerning the princess." He gave Shyla a brief glare before ignoring her. "This is a situation best handled by the diplomats."

Daniel finally tore his eyes away and looked at Teal'c. "You're right. I'm sorry." He took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes before turning back to O'Neill. "Jack, just—give me a moment?"

Not sure whether it was a good idea or not, Jack nodded. He watched carefully as Daniel brushed past the guards, who amazingly enough stood back and let him by and mounted the dais to Shyla.

This time he couldn't hear what was said, but by the painfully determined look on Daniel's face and the equally obstinate look on Shyla's, he figured Daniel wasn't having any success in changing her mind. Which was fine as far as he was concerned. He felt a fresh surge of grief that he quickly tamped down. They'd already lost far too much...he'd lost too much for a few lousy ounces of Naquadah. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In spite of the fresh bruises on her cheek, Sam felt a renewed sense of hope. They were here! She'd soon be free of this endless toil and backbreaking labor. She wasn't sure if the Colonel had seen her or not, her startled cry had been subdued by the guards almost before it had left her mouth. And when she had struggled to break free, they had quickly dragged her back into the mine. But they were here.

She attacked her chores with renewed energy, confident that any moment the guards would return and take her up to the surface and to freedom. Garrick must have noticed her renewed energy for her commented irritably, "Must you show such enthusiasm? They'll only make us work harder if you start increasing our output."

He had paused, leaning against the wall of rock they'd been assigned to mine. Sam figured Shyla must have taken a perverse pleasure in ordering her and Garrick to be interned in the mines together. And they'd been taken deep into the bowels of the mine, working in even more primitive conditions than she'd experienced with the Colonel and Teal'c. It had only been by chance that she'd been on the surface earlier. Part of a tunnel in her section had collapsed earlier and the ragged crew of workers sentenced to that area had been evacuated to the surface while the tunnel was repaired. 

She didn't stop working. "My hours here are numbered, Garrick," she gloated. Sam ignored his derisive snort. "When we were up on the surface?" She glanced at him and he nodded. "I saw my team. They've come to get me."

"Have they now?"

"The Colonel and Daniel will have me out of here before you know it." She felt generous enough to add, "Maybe they'll even get you released."

"I have no need for any help from your team. My agents are hard at work on a plan to free me."

"You've been saying that ever since we were brought down here."

"Staging a revolution takes time, Captain."

It was her turn to snort. "Yeah, especially if you've been imprisoned in a mine!" Sam didn't say anymore, just continued to break up the larger pieces of rock and ore. She sensed Garrick's continued stare, but ignored him, until he too went back to his labor. 

The day wore on, their afternoon water break came and went and still no sign of the Colonel. Sam doggedly kept working, ignoring the now concerned looks from Garrick. She felt a surge of hope when the guards finally came, only to have it dashed when she realized their arrival merely signaled the end of the working day. However, she and Garrick were once more chained and merely taken to the large common area that served as the communal eating and sleeping area for those unfortunate enough to be designated political prisoners. 

Sam accepted her bowl of gruel and slumped down dejectedly on the pile of rags that had become her bed. They should have come for her by now...she should be back on Earth enjoying a real meal, having a bath and then getting ready to sleep in a real bed—she'd even settle for a bed in the infirmary. But the Colonel hadn't come for her. She did her best to ignore the deep despair building within her, but she couldn't deny the feeling that he had abandoned her...that in spite of all that they had shared and been through together, he hadn't returned to the planet to free her. Sam didn't look up when Garrick sat down beside her, certain that he only meant to taunt her.

"I am sorry that your friends did not come for you."

The concern in his voice was almost her undoing. She quickly swiped away her tears. "Maybe the negotiations are taking longer than expected." It was a feeble excuse, but she clung to it like a drowning person clings to a life preserver. 

"You do not know the princess as I do." Garrick leaned back against the stone wall. "I have been the King's advisor for well over ten years and I have watched her change in those years." He looked at her, his expression sympathetic. "She cannot be trusted and she will apparently do anything to keep your Doctor Jackson as her consort. Who knows what she has told your friends?"

Sam nodded morosely, he make a weird kind of sense. She was painfully aware that Shyla had her own distorted view of reality. But that didn't lessen the despair that threatened to engulf her. The Colonel O'Neill she knew would stop at nothing to find her—no matter what some psychotic princess had to say!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning gong was being sounded. Sam groaned and rolled over, her joints stiff with pain and cold, and tried burrowing deeper into her filthy blanket. She tried vainly to ignore the sounds of activity around her. All she wanted to do was pull the blanket over her head and forget about everything. She bit back a sob. It had been two long days since she'd seen the Colonel outside the mine, two long days when she'd expected him to appear at any minute and rescue her. And even though she knew there was no way he'd leave her here, in the light of his continued absence, it was becoming more and more difficult to maintain that certainty.

She stiffened when she felt a hand on her shoulder, but relaxed when Garrick spoke. "Samantha, you must get up. The guards will return soon."

Garrick was right, if she wasn't up and ready when the guards returned, she'd suffer for it. She slowly sat up, brushing her filthy hair out of her eyes. Garrick squatted down next to her and handed her a bowl of the thin soup they were given in the mornings. Sam took the bowl without interest. What was the point in eating if she was only going to die here anyway? But even through her despair she could sense something different in Garrick this morning. He was practically vibrating with something...excitement?

He saw her looking at him and smiled. "Eat up, you will need your strength."

She took a cautious sip of the muddy colored liquid, ignoring the rancid taste. Garrick leaned closer. "I am sorry, my agents have informed me that your team returned to their planet through the Stargate less than two hours after they arrived." 

Sam felt all the color drain from her face, the half empty bowl of soup falling from her hands and she watched with detached curiousity as Garrick frowned before roughly pushing her head down between her knees. "Take deep breaths, quickly! Pull yourself together." 

Mindlessly obeying his command, she closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath, fighting the dizziness that had overwhelmed her. Oh god, part of her had still believed that they were still on the planet and that it was only a matter of time before they came for her. But they were gone and she was alone. She vaguely realized Garrick was still whispering to her.

"My agents have finally succeeded in setting our plans to overthrow the Princess in motion. In less than a fortnight, we will be free."

She looked up at him. "Why tell me this?"

His smile was sympathetic and she hated him for it. "Because you will be coming with me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teal'c listened politely while Captain Ventura spoke, though his thoughts rested on his other two team mates. It had been almost two weeks since they'd returned from P3R-636 with the news of Captain Carter's death and there were still feeling the effects. Teal'c was encountering a side of O'Neill that he had not witnessed before, a side with which Daniel Jackson appeared all too familiar. His eyes rested on Daniel. He knew the other man still carried the pain of guilt regarding his role in Captain Carter's imprisonment and ultimate death. He recalled the tense scene he'd witnessed upon their return from P3R-636.

_Teal'c removed his vest and sat on the bench, preparing to take off his boots when the door to the locker room swung open and Colonel O'Neill strode in._

_"Jack, wait," Daniel Jackson called breathlessly and followed him in._

_"Daniel, whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it."_

_Teal'c watched fascinated as the men talked, apparently oblivious to his presence._

_"Jack, it's all my fault that she's dead. The sarcophagus...god, I didn't know what I was doing!"_

_Jack slammed the door of his locker open, the metal clanging loudly in the small room. Daniel jumped and Teal'c raised an eyebrow, this was the most emotion he'd seen O'Neill display since Shyla informed them of Captain Carter's demise._

_"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for not stopping her from agreeing to that trade, for leaving her there."_

_"Jack—"_

_"No, Daniel," he interrupted, his voice harsh. "As her commanding officer, it was my duty to keep her safe, watch her back. No one gets left behind and I left her behind."_

_"O'Neill," Teal'c interrupted quietly, both men turning to look at him. "She could not let them kill you."_

_The anger seemed to dissipate out of O'Neill and his eyes flashed with some deep, dark emotion before once more becoming remote. "She should have," he muttered, grabbing his jacket out of his locker and leaving the two stunned men staring after him._

_The door swung closed almost noiselessly and Daniel slumped down on the bench next to him. "God, what a mess."_

_"Indeed."_

 

And it was still a mess, as Daniel Jackson had said. O'Neill grew more remote every day, he was there physically but Teal'c sensed he was only going through the motions, denying that anything was wrong. And then Captain Ventura had been assigned to take Captain Carter's place and even though they continued to function together, all was clearly not well. The man was young, enthusiastic and capable. It was not his fault that they still missed their dead teammate. Dragging this thoughts away from the tangled mess that was SG-1 without Samantha Carter, Teal'c forced his attention back to what the Captain was saying.

"There was no organic residue, but they did pick up a faint nuclear signature. Traces of iridium."

That elicited a reaction from Doctor Jackson. "Iridium, that's the radioactive stuff we put in the Sagan lnstitute box we left on Cimmeria."

Ventura nodded in agreement. "According to Captain Carter's notes, she wanted it there because it would leave a very recognizable signature."

Teal'c noted that some of Daniel Jackson's enthusiasm faded with the mention of their late teammates name, both of them glancing quickly at O'Neill, who merely stared intently at his pencil.

"Same stuff?" Daniel finally asked.

"Yes, identical."

Teal'c was pleased when O'Neill showed some interest and finally looked up, contributing to the conversation.

"Weren't the locals supposed to give that box to...Thor? Whoever, whatever he is?"

Teal'c inclined his head. "We assume he is a member of the Asgard, an extremely advanced culture."

"The fact of the matter is, we really don't know," O'Neill said.

"The Asgard must've gotten the box and sent an answer." Once more showing signs of mounting interest, Daniel turned to Hammond. "General, we have to respond before they leave."

"Um, you all know I take great pride in my title as Mr. Positive," O'Neill commented dryly. "However, we did destroy their de-Goa'ulding thing. Might not they look unkindly on that?"

"We did that to save Teal'c," Daniel quickly assured him. "I'm sure the Asgard didn't expect to trap a Jaffa who isn't an enemy. I'm sure they'd understand."

They all looked to Hammond.

"All right. I'll tell you what. We'll send a probe though at 1300 hours. If everything checks out, you have a go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Garrick swung his mallet, the impact of rock on rock jarring his entire body. But he was used to it, just as he was used to the presence of the silent woman who toiled beside him. He wasn't as cold a man as he seemed and he felt badly for the way he had used Samantha Carter. Which was why he would make sure she was able to escape once the revolution had started. And start it would. The people were tired of toiling for nigh on seven hundred years for a King, and now his daughter, who still forced them to pay tribute to god's long gone from this part of the galaxy. The revolution would be successful and perhaps even obtain them an ally, if Samantha Carter survived. 

Since the day that her friends are left, he had watched in growing concern as the feisty captain grew quieter and thinner, the shadows under her eyes deepening every day. She still toiled faithfully beside him, her movements slow and measured as poor nutrition and depression weakened her body and her spirit. Fortunately their ordeal would be over soon.   
He only hoped she would be able to enact the plan they had discussed several days ago...or at least that he had discussed.

_Garrick knew she wasn't asleep, even though both of them were beaten down with exhaustion. Compelled by guilt and concern, he crawled over to where she lay huddled on the ground._

_"Samantha?" he whispered, touching her shoulder carefully._

_She rolled over and looked up at him. In the dim light from the few torches that remained lit at night, he could see the profound desolation in her eyes. He spoke, hoping she would listen and understand._

_"Where will you go once we escape?"_

_The slight frown told him that she hadn't even been thinking about a plan of escape. "Back to Earth, of course," she finally murmured._

_"I overheard Doctor Jackson telling the Princess that to access your Stargate some kind of special device is required, to unlock it."_

_Her frown deepened. "A GDO...which I don't have anymore. Unless my gear is still here?"_

_Garrick shook his head. "No, all of your items were returned to your teammates when they left."_

_"Than I'll have to go somewhere else...but where?"_

_She actually looked interested, her usual lethargy fading as she pondered the question and Garrick's spirit lifted. "You've been to other worlds, surely there must be a place that will help you?"_

_"Yes," she nodded slowly. "There is one world I can think of...Cimmeria...they became allies of a sort and we left a specially-tagged box there that I might be able to use to let the SGC know where I am."_

_"And you know the symbols to reach this planet?" Garrick knew he was pressing her, but he needed to be confident that she have her plan well established before the uprising occurred._

_"Yes, they're called glyphs," she murmured grumpily. "But it won't do any good, Garrick. We're never getting out of here..."_

_She rolled back over and closed her eyes, shutting him out. But he was satisfied._

The water boy appeared then, as if on cue. Samantha Carter paused and still managed a tired smile for the boy, accepting the dipper of stale water. The boy approached him next, handing him the dipper and passing a small piece of parchment into his hand. Garrick smiled and quickly read the note as the boy scampered off. It would soon begin.

The first explosion rocked the mine thirty minutes later. Garrick dropped his mallet and grabbed Samantha's arm. "Hurry! We must leave quickly!"

"What?" she gasped as he pulled her along through the twisting maze that led up from the lower levels of the mine, more and more prisoners joining them the higher they climbed. There was another explosion and some rocks rained down on them, but Garrick kept going, keeping a firm grip on Samantha when she stumbled over more debris. They rounded a corner and for the first time Garrick could hear the distant shouts and cries of the workers and guards on the upper levels. If his information had been right, there would be one more explosion. And there it was, sounding deceptively close this time, the walls around them almost vibrating as dust and gravel rained down on them.

"What is it?" Samantha gasped again; tugging now at his restraining grip as more and more prisoners jostled against them. "What's happening?"

He pulled her against the wall as a large group of men and women rushed past them, pushing and yelling at each other. "It is the start of the revolution, Samantha. The rebellion has begun and the people will soon triumph."

She looked at him with dazed blue eyes and he smiled gently at her. "You will soon be free. I told you I would see you safely to the Stargate, and I will." An ominous roar had started to build around them. "But first we must escape the mine!"

As if she sensed his urgency, Garrick no longer had to pull Samantha along behind him, she came willingly and they soon reached the upper levels of the mine. Here the confusion and panic was much more pronounced and Garrick was pleased to see that there were no guards anywhere in sight. 

Mingling in with the mob rushing out of the mine, Garrick and Samantha were swept along and soon reached the entrance. Once more pulling Samantha aside, this time behind the timbers shoring up the entrance, Garrick strove to regain his bearings. Squinting in the bright sunlight, he was pleased to see smoke rising from several levels of the pyramid. The initial seeds of the revolution were in full bloom. Now was the time to pay his debt to the woman beside him. 

He grabbed her wrist and once more pulled her along behind him, this time setting off at a fast trot in the opposite direction of the surging mob. 

"Where are we going?" she panted, her eyes wild with fright.

"To the Stargate, your best chance for escape will be now, when all the guards are occupied with the initial revolt." 

The Stargate wasn't far and Garrick had been right, any guards that might have been posted there had long vanished, probably when the first explosion had rocked the pyramid. He stopped at the DHD and looked at Samantha. "You must leave now."

She looked at the DHD as if she had never seen it. Turning to him, her eyes were huge and glistened with tears. "Where will I go?"

Garrick grasped her shoulders, looking into her frightened eyes. "Do you not remember telling me of a planet where the people were friendly?" When she continued to look blankly at him he shook her gently. "A land where there was a means to contact your people?"

Awareness washed into her face and Garrick felt tremendous relief when she nodded. "Yes, Cimmeria...they have the Sagan box...."

"Yes," he agreed, "that is the land you mentioned." He released her and placed one of her trembling hands on the DHD. "Quickly now, you told me you remembered the way."

She nodded again and Garrick watched with bated breath as she slowly pressed the symbols, seven in all before she paused, her hand over the center crystal. "Thank you for helping me," she whispered.

Guilt and shame washed through Garrick. "Do not thank me," he answered gruffly. "It is the least I can do for you." He reached out and gently brushed her hair back off her grimy face. "Go now, before it is too late."

She bit her lip and turned back to the DHD, pressing the center crystal. To Garrick's great relief the Stargate activated, the familiar whoosh sweeping towards them. She stepped back and hesitated, looking at him. 

"Go," he told her. She smiled, somehow looking beautiful even through the layers of dirt and her fatigue and Garrick knew he felt some of what Pyrus had felt the first time that he'd seen the woman. She turned then and didn't look back and Garrick watched as she disappeared into the swirling vortex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam let the familiar sensations of the wormhole envelope her, the blessed familiarity giving her a feeling of security that had been missing for weeks. She stepped through the other side of the event horizon and collapsed down onto her knees, not sure if she was dizzy and nauseous from the ride or her generally weakened condition. Taking several deep breaths, the spots before her eyes finally faded and she looked up—straight into the dark brown eyes of Colonel Jack O'Neill.

"What the hell?" he growled.

Relief flooded her at the sight of O'Neill, but it was quickly replaced with pain and confusion. What was he doing here? And then before she could even open her mouth, Captain Samantha Carter let out a soft cry and passed out at his feet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a lot to throw Jack O'Neill off balance, but the sight of Samantha Carter—alive and on Cimmeria—made his head spin. He wondered dazedly if Thor had somehow returned her, but quickly dismissed that wild thought. They had seen her come through the Stargate. They had just been preparing to dial out themselves when the gate activated, and still on guard against any more curious Goa'uld or stray Jaffa, they had kept their weapons drawn and waited until the person materialized. Jack hadn't recognized her at first, none of them had. The thin, dirty and unkempt woman dressed in tattered rags bore no resemblance to his beautiful, blonde captain. But beyond all that—how could she be alive? Daniel's voice finally shook him out of his muddled thoughts.

"She's alive, thank god." Daniel knelt by her side, his fingers pressed lightly to her neck. He carefully pulled her into his arms. "Sam," he murmured, his voice gentle as he stroked her dirty cheek. "Sam, wake up. Come on, Sam, wake up for me."

Jack waited anxiously for Carter to respond and let out a soundless sigh of relief when her eyes fluttered open. 

"Daniel?"

Daniel grinned at her, smoothing back her hair. "Yeah, it's me."

Her eyes moved past Daniel. "Teal'c?"

"It is I, Captain Carter," he said from just behind Jack.

Her eyes slid to him next. "Colonel...why did you leave me there?"

Jack felt he had taken a knife in the gut, his insides knotting at her pitiful question. The confused look in her eyes and her frail, pleading voice tore at his heart. How could he have left her there?

"God...Sam," he finally managed to choke out, "we thought you were dead."

"I saw you," she said weakly. "I waited and waited, but you never came...." 

She had seen them? The knife in his gut twisted in deeper, what she must have thought....  
Before he could try and form an answer, her eyes closed, her body once more lying limp in Daniel's arms.

"She's fainted again," Daniel announced. "We better get her back to the SGC, Jack."

Right, of course. He didn't need Daniel to point out the obvious. "Teal'c?" Jack jerked his head toward Daniel and Carter.

Teal'c nodded his understanding and bent down, effortlessly lifting the unconscious woman into his arms. Hell, Jack thought guiltily, Daniel could probably carry her now, it looked like she'd lost at least twenty or thirty pounds.

Daniel stood and opened his mouth, but Jack cut him off.

"Dial us outta' here, Daniel."

The other man still looked like he wanted to say something, but Jack glared at him and Daniel wisely closed his mouth and headed to the DHD.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Captain Carter is suffering mainly from the effects of malnutrition, exposure and fatigue." Doctor Fraiser looked up from her folder. "I can see no evidence that she was physically abused or assaulted."

Hammond was relieved to hear that, pleased that the Doctor's report indicated nothing more serious than neglect and lack of food. He looked over at the other occupant of the room, Colonel O'Neill. The Colonel hadn't said a word since entering the room, his grave expression speaking volumes. But George had sensed a subtle easing of his tension after the Doctor's report.

Fraiser closed her folder. "I see no reason why she won't achieve a full recovery, given a proper diet and several weeks of rest."

"Thank you, Doctor," Hammond replied, dismissing her with a nod of his head.

Fraiser nodded and rose from her chair, leaving the two men alone in the room. 

"Colonel, explain to me how this could have happened." It wasn't a question he relished asking, but he needed answers—or at least an explanation.

O'Neill didn't betray any emotion. "I don't have an explanation, sir. My best guess is that the princess lied to us for reasons unknown."

George wasn't stupid and he had pretty good idea that jealousy and revenge had motivated the princess. But before he could say anything, O'Neill continued.

"Sir, I take full responsibility for what happened to Captain Carter."

Hammond sighed; he hadn't expected anything less from O'Neill, even if it was a load of hogwash. "Jack, you believed she was dead. It wasn't your fault."

O'Neill's jaw tightened. "We should have demanded to see her body...or something."

"Son, I’m not going to get into a debate of 'what ifs'. You could have been shown a grave they claimed to be hers, a body they said was hers, you were lied to." George gave him a firm look. "You can't take responsibility for something you had no control over."

O'Neill mumbled, "Yes, sir." 

Sadly, George knew his words hadn't made a bit difference to the man sitting in front of him. The bitter truth was, he would have felt the same way as O'Neill if he'd been in his shoes. And nothing he could say would make any difference; this was something Jack would have to work out for himself. 

"You and your team are on stand down for seventy-two hours. When you report back, you'll prep for your next mission."

"What about Captain Carter, sir?"

"Captain Carter will be on medical leave until Doctor Fraiser declares her fit to return to duty. Captain Ventura will remain assigned to SG-1 until that time."

"Yes, sir. Is there anything else, sir?"

"No, that's all." O'Neill stood and stepped to the door. George had to try one more time. "Jack?" The other man didn't turn, just paused with his hand on the door handle. "It wasn't your fault."

"Try telling that to Carter, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stared at the gray cement wall. Once the innumerable tests had been finished, she'd been given what she supposed was a prime spot in the infirmary, a nice quiet corner, hidden away, the curtains pulled around her bed like some kind of force shield. At least that's what it seemed like to her. So far the only people she'd had any contact with were Doctor Fraiser and the nurses. Oh, General Hammond had stopped by once she'd arrived in the ward, but he really wasn't who she wanted to see. She wanted to see her team...to see the Colonel. If they were still her team.

Fraiser had let slip that SG-1 had been assigned a new member while she was 'missing', as Janet had so tactfully phrased it. Sam hadn't recognized the name of her replacement, but that didn't mean anything. What mattered was that she had been replaced and she wasn't so confident that the Colonel would want her back, especially after she'd disobeyed him by agreeing to Pyrus' proposal. Logically she knew that SG-1 would go on, even if she wasn't with them, but being faced with the reality of it didn’t make it any easier to accept. There was the sound of footsteps and she heard the murmur of voices; Sam rolled over to her back, wondering what the nurses could possibly want now....

"Captain Carter?" Her nurse peeked in through an opening in the curtain. "Doctor Jackson is here to see you."

Finally, Sam thought, smiling and raising the head of the bed. "You can let him in," she told the nurse. Sam ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it down. She needed a cut badly, it had gotten so long while she was on P3R-636, but at least it was clean. The curtain opened wider and Daniel was there, pulling a chair behind him.

"Sam," he said, smiling and setting the chair down. He stood by the bed and Sam held her arms out to him. She caught the brief look of relief that flashed through his eyes and then he had his arms around her. She held him tightly, fighting the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. His arms loosened and she reluctantly let him go, settling back on the pillows while he sat in the chair. 

"Daniel," she said with a smile, "I'm so glad you came by."

"Well, Doctor Fraiser said you would be up to some visitors. She wouldn't let anyone in earlier," he explained.

Well, that accounted for the lack of visitors then. But that still didn't explain the wary look in Daniel's eyes. 

"And then you had the debriefing?"

He shrugged. "That...and I had some work to catch up on here. But how do you know about that anyway?" 

"Standard procedure, plus General Hammond told me. He also told me about the Goa'uld invasion of Cimmeria that I just missed."

"Yeah, it was lucky for you that you arrived when you did."

"Yeah, lucky..." her voice trailed off and Daniel looked like he'd prefer to be back fighting Heru'ur than talking to her.

Sam couldn't stand it and decided she needed to clear the air between them. "Daniel, I don't blame you for what happened. Doctor Fraiser explained to me that Shyla told you I had been killed, you couldn't have known that she was lying."

"God, Sam...how can you say that? I am so sorry! It was all my fault, everything that happened on P3R-636 happened because I acted impulsively and then believed Shyla's lies and got addicted to that sarcophagus."

"Daniel," she said firmly, sitting up and grabbing one of his hands, holding it firmly. "She was very clever—psychotic, but very clever." He smiled slightly and she released his hand. "I think she had everybody fooled until her father died."

"Yeah, Sam, about Pyrus..." Daniel looked at her, blatant curiosity in his eyes.

She smoothed her hands over the sheet covering her lap. "What happened between me and Pyrus, you mean?"

He had the grace to blush, but still nodded eagerly. 

She looked down at her hands, still rough and chapped from her weeks in the mine, her nails just beginning to recover. "Well...I was bathed, dressed in this beautiful peignoir and taken to Pyrus' chambers." She looked up and glanced at Daniel, his eager look had been replaced by a slight frown. "And then he kissed me...and died!" 

"He died?" " Daniel exclaimed.

She couldn't help but laugh at the look of utter shock on Daniel's face. "Didn't Fraiser or Hammond tell you?" 

"Well, no..." he stuttered. And then added, "No wonder Shyla told us you were dead! She must've been so mad...."

Sam shuddered, her smile fading. "Oh yeah, you have no idea."

"Sam--"

"Daniel, it's okay. You don't have to keep apologizing. I understand, I really do."

"You're being too kind," he said wearily.

"No, I'm just being realistic."

"Well then, I wish you could pass some of that on to Jack."

"Colonel O'Neill? What do you mean?"

"The only other time I've ever seen him like this was during the first Abydos mission. Ever since we lost you, he's been withdrawn, surly and even more sarcastic than usual. That is when he deigns to speak."

"Has he said anything about me?" Sam tried to keep her voice casual, but couldn't quite keep the slight quiver out of her voice. 

"No, but then he isn't saying much about anything. Why?" 

"I just wondered...I mean, I did disobey a direct order when I went agreed to Pyrus' little proposal."

Daniel snorted. "Sam, you did that to save our lives, he knows that."

"I don't know Daniel. He hasn't been to see me and SG-1 has a new team member...." Her voice faded away and they both sat there in a silence that grew increasingly uncomfortable.

Daniel finally broke the silence, looking at his watch. "Well, I really should go, Sam. Let you get some rest."

Sam smiled tiredly. "I understand, Daniel. Thanks for stopping by."

He stood then and scooped her into a gentle hug, kissing cheek. "Just hang in there, Sam. You'll be back on SG-1 before you know it."

"I hope so, Daniel, I really hope so," she murmured, as he disappeared through the curtain. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack hit the turn signal and eased his truck over into the far right lane, joining the steady stream of morning traffic heading up to the Mountain. It was a beautiful spring morning, the sun shown brightly, the aspen and other deciduous trees just beginning to show signs of new growth. A perfect day, so why did he feel so lousy? Because he'd spent the first two days of his downtime haunted by the sad and tired face of his second-in-command.

Carter...god, just thinking about her started that burning pain in his gut. They'd found her, but only because she'd managed to escape her captivity and had the sense to gate to a planet where she could make contact with Earth. Where she could come home...after being left for dead, by him. The happiness he felt at her return had been overwhelmed by the guilt that filled him when he realized she hadn't been dead when they'd returned to 636. Which is why he'd tried to put her out of his mind...which hadn't worked and was why he was returning to the mountain early.

Jack slowed the truck down, joining the long line at the entrance gate, slowly creeping through the checkpoint. His hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, wondering what the hell he was going to say to her when he saw her. Because he still had no idea what the he could say that would make up for leaving her on P3R-636. It had all sounded so easy when Daniel was the one doing the talking.

"Jack?" The doorbell rang again, this time followed by knocking on the door. "I know you're in there."

Jack scowled, hitting the mute on the TV before getting up and pulling the door open. "Yeah, Daniel?" he snapped, blocking the open doorway.. 

Daniel stood nonchalantly on his front porch, his hands in his pockets. "May I come in?"

Jack glared at him, only to met by a bland smile. Finally relenting, Jack stepped aside, gesturing grandly with his hand. Daniel smiled and sauntered casually in, going straight to the living. But instead of sitting, he stood by the mantel. "So," he commented, picking up a picture that sat there, studying it intently before setting it down. "I saw Sam today."

"Did you now?" O'Neill muttered, sitting back down on the sofa.

"She's looking better, said she's feeling okay. She also said you hadn't been by to see her."

"Yeah, well, I've been kind of busy."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Jack looked around his tidy living room for something that would attest to his business, but finding nothing, settled on once more glaring at Daniel.

Apparently unperturbed, the other man continued. "Well, Sam's afraid that you're not going to let her back on SG-1. She feels guilty because she disobeyed you by staying with Pyrus so we could go free."

Jack was stunned by Daniel's announcement. Carter felt guilty because he had left her to rot on that god-forsaken planet, doomed to be either Pyrus' mistress or a slave in the mine? "She has no reason to feel guilty, Daniel," he finally admitted. "What happened to her was all my fault."

Daniel grimaced. "I think we can share the blame, Jack."

"You're not the one who left her there, Daniel. I did! And there is no excuse for that."

"That's not how she feels, Jack." Daniel left the fireplace, walking slowly back across the room. "You need to go talk to her, get this out in the open."

"Right, Daniel. You don't know what the hell you're talking about." His voice had risen to almost a shout, but Daniel stood there unfazed.

"You all forgave me. What makes you think Sam won't do the same?" And with that pronouncement, Daniel let himself out the door. 

Daniel had driven all the way to his house just to tell him he'd been to see Carter? Jack wasn't sure what alarmed him more, that Daniel had found it necessary to make a special visit to see him and tell him he'd visited Sam...or that Daniel thought Jack would want to know the outcome of that visit. Either way, it left him just as confused as ever in regards to his increasingly complex relationship with his captain. Unable to forgive himself what he'd done, he couldn't even begin to imagine how Carter could forgive him.

Which still left Jack in his current situation, at the same time denying—despite desperately needing—the reassurance that only Sam could give him, yet paralyzed with guilt and fear that she would reject him and any request for understanding and forgiveness. Swinging the truck into his assigned parking lot, Jack maneuvered the large vehicle into a parking space. Turning off the ignition, he sat for a minute, gazing out at the looming presence that was the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Buried deep in the bowels of that chunk of rock was a woman whom he thought was dead, but had now been restored to him. Never mind that his feelings for her treaded a very fine line indeed, she was alive and even if she hated him, he needed to see her and explain. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay," Fraiser smiled at Sam, closing her chart. "Your blood work is improving, you've actually gained five pounds and," she cocked her head to the side and Sam forced herself to sit still as the doctor studied at her, "you're even looking better." 

"So, does that mean I can go home?"

"Yes," Janet smiled broadly, "I think you can finish your recuperation at home. I'll write the order and then you're free to go."

Janet's news was the best she'd had in a long time, she couldn't wait to get home and maybe just soak in the bathtub for several hours or days. Thank goodness Hammond—for whatever reasons—had just classified her as MIA, otherwise she wasn't sure what would have happened to her house, or how she would have been able to explain her resurrection to her father. Not that they talked much anyway. But she wasn't going to go there right now, right now she was going to get changed and go home. 

Fifteen minutes later she was changed into a spare black T-shirt and BDU's that Janet had appropriated for her, since her locker had been cleared out and the clothes she'd had in there apparently stored somewhere off base. It wasn't until she actually had some real clothes on that she realized how much weight she had lost. Her usual size trousers hung on her now and the T-shirt hung shapelessly on her. She sighed, why did she always lose weight in her breasts first? The five pounds Janet was so proud she'd gained must've gone somewhere else, Sam decided in disgust. 

So, there she was, ready to leave when she belatedly realized that along with her clothes being stored somewhere, she also didn't have her purse, car keys, house keys. So much for being back home, frustration filling her as she wondered if her car was even out in the parking lot now? Slinging on her BDU shirt, she rationalized that someone on base had to know where her stuff was, she just needed to discover which someone. 

"Looking for these?"

Colonel O'Neill stood in front of her, carrying a large box, which he set down on one of the beds. It was filled with all her belongings that had been in her locker. 

"Yes," she said, smiling with relief. "But, how did you know?"

"Ah, well...Fraiser told me she had discharged you and I remembered that Daniel had packed all your things away and stashed them in his office."

"I see..." she murmured, rummaging around until she found her purse. A strange kind of disappointment filling her it had been Daniel who had taken it upon himself to store her personal items and not him. 

"And since Hammond had your car placed in storage, I'm volunteering my services to drive you home."

His voice was polite, that of a commanding officer showing appropriate interest and concern for a junior officer. And she was about to turn him down and find her own way home when she realized that was what he expected, that the casual disinterest he projected was anything but casual. Wild hope leaped within her, maybe he needed this as much as she did. 

"Thanks, sir, I'd appreciate that."

He smiled faintly and nodded, once more picking up her box. Sam grabbed her purse and followed him out of the infirmary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was frustrated almost to tears, but determined not to show any weakness in front of the Colonel. It was bad enough that she had to use his cell phone, her cell—of course—being completely dead. But she hadn't even considered that the water, telephone and power would have been shut off to her house. The Colonel lounged casually against the wall in her foyer, waiting patiently as she placed call after call—with absolutely no luck.

"Damn," she finally muttered, flipping his phone shut and handing it back to him. He raised an eyebrow.

"The earliest they can get the power back on is tomorrow afternoon. Something about the substation." She took a deep breath, she would not cry, at least not in front of him. But she really didn't know what she was going to do, go to a hotel she guessed. She laughed raggedly then, providing her credit cards or bankcard still worked. 

"Sam?"

"I just realized that my credit cards or bankcard might not work."

"So?"

She opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. "I have exactly..." she looked up at him, "twenty-three dollars to my name. I can't get a hotel room..." her voice started to rise as panic started to fill her.

"Sam," his voice was kind, his hands gentle as he gripped her shoulders. "Not a problem. You can come home with me."

His unexpected invitation knocked the panic right out of her. She looked at him, totally unsure as to what to say. He must've sensed her reticence, because he quickly elaborated on his original statement.

"That is until we get this all sorted out, and, you know, the power is back on."

Sam studied him carefully, seeing nothing but concern in his eyes. She considered his offer, which perhaps wasn't so unusual under the circumstances. And she rationalized it one step further, it wasn't like she was on his team anymore, was it?

"Until the power is back on," she agreed. 

The satisfaction that filled his face when she agreed to go with him should have alarmed her, but for some reason it didn't. He slipped his sunglasses on. "Gather up what you'll need and then we'll go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack listened to the unfamiliar and intimate sounds of Sam moving about in the guest bathroom; the flushing of the toilet, the water in the tub, the faint and slightly off-key singing as she bathed. He still wasn't quite sure what had prompted him to offer to let her stay with him until her affairs were sorted out. He should have realized that all her utilities would have been shut off. One more thing he could have spared her, but hadn't. If offering her a room for a night or two could help him make up for all that had happened to her, it was the least he could do. 

Jack puttered around the house, waiting impatiently for Sam to appear. He could understand her taking a long time in the bath, he had done the same thing when he'd returned from 636. He hadn't felt really clean for days. He could only imagine what it was like for her. But that didn't make the waiting any easier, his earlier apprehension at what he wanted to tell her, explain to her, having way too much time to resurface. 

Jack waited thirty minutes after the pizza had been delivered before finally knocking on the bathroom door. "Sam? Pizza's here."

"Okay, be right there."

He listened for a moment longer, satisfied when he heard splashing and movement, the sound of water draining out of the tub, before returning to the kitchen. She appeared some fifteen minutes later, standing uncertainly in the doorway, looking exceptionally frail in sweat pants and a t-shirt that were painfully big on her. She was barefoot and her hair was curling damply around her face. 

"I forgot my blow dryer," she murmured, brushing at her bangs and stepping further into the room.

He nodded, wondering if now would be the time to bring up how he had left her behind on 636, when he chickened out. "Pizza?"

If her eyes flashed in disappointment, he ignored it, busying himself with gathering up the pizza, plates and napkins, carrying them to the living room. She followed, curling up on the sofa. 

"Here." Jack handed her a plate, then lifted two slices of pizza onto it.

"Thanks."

He grunted, grabbing a couple of slices for himself before sitting down across from her. They ate silently for several minutes, Jack wolfing down several pieces in the time it took Sam to half-heartedly eat half of hers. She finally set her plate down, prompting him to ask, "Is that all you're going to eat?"

"I'm not really hungry." 

Jack ate one more piece, the atmosphere in the room becoming more and more strained as the silence continued long after he'd finished.

She finally shifted, sitting on the edge of the sofa. "Maybe you'd better take me to a hotel...if I can borrow some money from you—"

Jack stood, bumping against the coffee table, almost sending the plates and pizza to the floor. "God, Sam...if you don't want to be around me, just say so. I'll take you to a hotel, anything."

"Not want to be around you?"

The surprise in her voice passed right over him. "I left you on that planet," he blurted out. There, he'd finally said it. 

"You thought I was dead."

"It doesn’t matter what I thought. You weren't dead."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was my fault. God, Sam!" He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even more. "I know exactly what you went through and I know there's no way you can ever forgive me." 

His hands clenched into tight fists at his side and Jack was surprised to find himself standing right over her, breathing heavily as if he'd just run a race. She stared up at him, her eyes huge in her pale face. But her voice was soft and her touch gentle when she took hold of one of his hands, urging him to sit down next to her.

"Tell me what happened," she urged.

He wasn't sure how this had become about him and not her, but before he knew it, Jack spoke, telling Sam what he'd never told anyone—not even Sara. He didn't look at her while he spoke, he couldn't. "Same thing happened to me, got shot—went down—during a covert mission. Spent four months in an Iraqi prison." He finally looked at her, "I've never forgiven the CO for leaving me there."

"I forgive you." 

She hadn't hesitated at all and Jack briefly closed his eyes, before asking gruffly, "Sam...how can you?"

"Because I know you. And my Jack O'Neill would never have knowingly left me behind."

The ever-present knife twisted in his gut again, her belief in him more than he deserved. "You're a better person than I could ever be."

She smiled tenderly. "We are who we are. And I for one, wouldn't want you any other way." 

Jack watched in fascination when she blushed, as if she had suddenly realized what she had revealed. He knew her well enough to know she meant what she said and with her forgiveness, he had hopes that one day he might forgive himself. 

"Have I told you yet that I'm glad you're not dead?"

"No, you haven't." She smiled shyly at him, her blue eyes filled with tender affection and Jack felt the knife slip out a bit.

"Then I'm telling you now." He reached out and carefully tucked a flyaway strand of her now dry hair behind her ear. "I'm glad you're alive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EPILOG

Garrick stood on the portico, the slowly setting sun casting a gentle orange glow over the rolling hills and pastureland surrounding what was left of the great pyramid. Reluctantly turning from the pastoral view, Garrick handed the parchment back to the courier. 

"Will there be a reply, Prime Minister Garrick?"

"Yes. Please convey to High Priest Tariq my great appreciation for his willingness to shelter the former Princess Shyla and facilitate her rehabilitation."

The young man nodded, scribbling hurriedly on the parchment and then carefully rolling it up. "Your message will be delivered to the High Priest." Garrick nodded in dismissal and the courier strode from the room. 

Garrick turned back to his sunset, catching one final glimpse of the sun before it disappeared beneath the horizon. He sighed; sunset was his favorite time of the day, the hustle and bustle of the developing town fading into the soothing grays of twilight. The lights of the settlement that was slowly growing twinkled into existence, a sight that was far removed from the campfires that would spring up around the mine entrance every night. Garrick walked to the far end of the portico and looked out toward the old mine—mercifully closed—the rubble-strewn entrance barely visible in the dwindling light.

It was slow, tedious work, converting the people to freedom after years of enforced labor in the mines. There was still much to be done and years before the abuse the people had suffered at the hands of Pyrus would be forgotten. But Garrick was optimistic, the rebellion had been swift and relatively bloodless. More lives were lost during any give week in the mine than had been lost during the uprising. 

Probably the Princess had surprised him the most, for when it became apparent that the guards and Jaffa were running or switching sides, she had abdicated with grace and dignity. And once she had been removed from power, the revolution proceeded with amazing speed. Yes, Garrick reflected, turning his gaze once more towards the horizon and beyond to the night sky, it would take much hard work and patience, but he was confident the people would prevail and live their lives in freedom from false gods.

A particularly bright star momentarily drew Garrick's eye and he stood for a moment longer, watching as more and more stars filled the sky. One of those stars was her star, the sun around which Samantha's world revolved. He hoped she had made it home safely, that she would not be counted as one of the casualties in a revolution she had unwittingly helped. If she had made it to her world, perhaps she and her team would one-day return. Garrick sent a heartfelt prayer to the old gods, that if she ever returned, she would find a friendly world and a people changed for the better.

THE END


End file.
